Saturday, December 13, 2014

The Illustrated Star

My husband and I have been married for 32 years. We've been together nearly 40 years. Neither of our families was wealthy. HIs family had so many kids and my family just never seemed to accumulate wealth. I went to college on a Pell Grant. My husband went to college for one year because his Dad was a self made man and believed if people wanted college they would pay for it themselves. Nobody gave us anything because nobody was in the position to give us anything. We never asked.

Our first Christmas two months after we married was bittersweet. We lived in a small, bug infested suburban apartment and we were so strapped for cash we couldn't afford a tree. I guess Christmas was on a Friday or Saturday because two days before Christmas we found a medium sized tree in the dumpster. We took it home, put it in water. I borrowed old (and probably hazardous) lights from my parents, bought pressed glass ornaments from the dollar bin at Pier One and our tree was set-except for the star. My Christmas trees have always had stars. The star signaled the shepherds and wise men. The star signaled hope and gave direction. I went and dug out my colored pencils and drew a star. The star was flat, made from thick scrap illustration board from my class. But I drew it so that it looked three dimensional. It has been on our tree for 32 years.

Our Christmases came and went. I started each child on a collection of ornaments. Mike had cars. Bobby had puppies. Christi had cute little animals. As they grew, the collections grew. And then the kids moved out, married and now have their own Christmas trees with their own pieces of our Christmases on them. I will never have a designer tree. Oh yes, they're beautiful and make wonderful backdrops for the holiday photos, but my trees and my ornaments are little pieces of my memory. Memories don't always conform to fashion. And they shouldn't.

When I look at my kids, none of whom are wealthy or in prestigious careers, but who are good people who work hard and pay their bills, it makes me fear for them. It seems that virtues like honesty and honor, trust and faith, love and respect are no longer part of the fabric of the American Dream. Fame, notoriety, provocative behavior and greed seem to trump the sweetness of what used to be goals. I'm not sure who speaks for my children anymore. They have no champions in their corner. All I can cling to is that time changes everything and life is more a roller coaster ride than a road. Let's hope this pendulum swings back before we lose more than just Christmas, but our souls.